through all kinds of weather.
Together sharing our hopes and joys
our troubles and sorrows.
So much heart is contained in that simple word
Years ago my brother and I shared everything.
I even wore the shirts that he grew out of.
Ugh. But they were Dave’s so that made it all ok.
Two years apart in age
gave us much understanding as we grew up.
he is not with me here on earth
but I like to think of him
and the many July 4ths that we celebrated together.
Popits that banged when they hit the sidewalk.
I was always the timid one
and protective of my big brother. Smile.
“Don’t get too close.”
But he was confident and brave.
Together we would enjoy the lavish meal that our dear mother would fix.
Hot dogs and hamburgers.
Watermelon and potato salad- Pennsylvania Dutch style, for sure,
with hot bacon dressing.
And ice cream.
Then when it got dark
we would set off our own fireworks
depending where we lived.
Special times are meant to be shared.
Grab the hand of your brothers and sisters
reach out for your mother and dad,
grandparents and aunts and uncles
bring in the all the precious children
and make red, white and blue memories
that will last for years.
Life is mean to be shared